Back Cover:

Jeremy Jones had changed since last they'd met. The Oregon Trail had hardened him, and he was clearly no longer a boy. He'd come back to the Nebraska Territory with both a glint in his eye and a desire that made White Dove tingle with pleasure. He'd returned to be trained as a warrior, to take the tests of manhood and prove himself in battle. Watching him, White Dove saw a bravery she'd never known, and suddenly she realized her young suitor was not just a man, he was the only one she'd ever love.

Excerpt:

Nebraska Territory 1859

Birth swept the land.

Fragile buds dotting barren branches exploded in a frenzy of greenery. The same beat of spring sped the hearts of squirrels curled into tight balls in their winter nests and lured them from their deep sleep. At the base of tree trunks and across the land, tender shoots of grass pushed through the earth to blanket the barren ground and pillow small purplish flowers.

Drifting slowly across the azure heavens, Wi, one of four Superior Gods, the all-powerful Great God, defender of bravery, fortitude, generosity and fidelity, warmed the air, casting bright light on a family of prairie dogs scampering and rolling over the soft mats of grass. Dirt flew through the air as new burrows were dug, and old tunnels repaired. High pitched yips filled the air as parents protected their young from the curious wolf pups and bear cubs.

The ray of light moved on, finding its way through a canopy of dark green leaves to illuminate a sleeping owl.

One eye blinked open, then two. Owl, irritated at being woken so early, ruffled snowy-white feathers. What reason do you have to wake me? It is not time for your wife, Hanwi, to show her face.

Wi trailed his finger of light downward. Look. He comes.

Below her, Owl spotted the white man moving with long strides along the stream and into the tall stand of cottonwoods. He didn’t stop to appreciate the new growth, the miracle of life. His booted feet crushed tender shoots of spring grass the same shade as his eyes. He glanced up into the tree but never saw her.

From a thick brush to his right, a mother deer jumped out in front of him and fled back across the stream, leaving her twin babies hunkered still and silent beneath thick shrubs. He strode past, shoving his way through bushes, breaking branches, tearing leaves. A neatly constructed nest fell onto the ground. Two tiny white eggs rolled beneath the scattered leaves. Owl lifted her golden eyes to Wi and beyond, seeking council of Wakan Tanka, the Chief God, Great Spirit, and Creator.

He cannot be the one.

Watch over him. The voice came from nowhere and everywhere, a command from the one who was considered wakan. Holy.

The withdrawal of Wi told Owl that Wi felt as she did. Blinking against the enormous task that lay ahead of her, Owl spread her wings and took to the sky to seek council with Skan, the Superior God of the sky. He sat in judgement of all Gods and spirits -- all but Wakan Tanka who was all. From what she'd just witnessed, the white man had much to learn and she'd need help from her sisters and brothers.

CHAPTER ONE

Winding his way through the thick stand of trees, Jeremy Jones paid little heed to the owl circling above, his attention focused on the tree tops in the distance. He quickened his steps, eager to find the bee hive. Behind him, a young boy carrying two pails struggled to keep up, his awkward gait adding to the harsh invasion.

Jeremy stopped and waited for Runs Slowly to catch up to him. The boy of ten stumbled, his deformed foot catching on a stone. Stepping forward, Jeremy held out his hand. "Let me carry those." He indicated the two pails the boy struggled to carry.

Runs Slowly pulled the pails close and shook his head, his face tight with determination. "No. I carry for Jer-m-ee."

"All right." Jeremy respected the boy’s need to be useful and slowed his own gait as he continued onward, kicking the larger rocks and fallen branches out of the path to make the boy’s passage easier.

"Where is honey, Jer-m-ee?"

Jeremy stopped and searched the tree tops. "Should be somewhere around here. Ah, there it is." He pointed to a tall cottonwood to his left. Anticipation hummed through him, leaving him quivering from the tip of his head to his toes. His fingers, wrapped loosely around the smooth wood of his new bow, itched to hurry and claim his prize but for just a moment, he let his gaze savor the sweet sight before him.

Dangling high above him, a large bee-hive buzzed with activity as its inhabitants returned home laden with pollen to make his favorite food -- honey. A gentle breeze caressed his face, the breath of a lover's whisper and just as sweet. Behind him, the stream fed by melting snow rushed and slapped against rocks, muting the distant sound of children playing. Eyeing the sun’s rays angling through the tree tops, Jeremy figured he had a good two hours before supper -- plenty of time to accomplish his mission.

"Okay, kid, let’s go get it." The boy’s happy shout made Jeremy smile. Of all the Sioux children spending the winter at his sister’s boarding school, Runs Slowly was his favorite. Simple, trusting and loving, the boy just wanted to please.

He waited while Runs Slowly shuffled forward to set one of the large pails beneath a tree, then hurried back to Jeremy’s side. Another pail holding two smoking sticks sat on Jeremy’s right side.

"Hur-ry, Jer-m-ee."

Ruffling the boys shiny black head, Jeremy grinned. "Patience, kid. I only have one arrow." He led the boy a few more feet back then checked his bow, running his hands lovingly along the smooth curve, the wood worn smooth from daily use over the long winter months. "Don’t let me down, Rosie." Jeremy ignored the snicker that came from the young boy squatting beside him. The Sioux children who attended his sister and brother-in-law’s boarding school found vastly amusing that he’d given his bow a woman’s name.

Gripping the bow in his left hand, he reached into the nearly empty quiver dangling from his belt with his right. Pulling one arrow out, he held it up and inspected it for flaws. Finding none, Jeremy kissed it for luck -- which earned him another scornful snicker. He ignored the boy and fit the nocked end into the taut sinew. "Perfect."

"Hungry, Jer-m-ee." Runs Slowly rubbed his belly and licked his lips. "Want honey."

Jeremy chuckled, his own mouth watering. "Me too, kid. Me too." The little boy stared into the tree tops. Jeremy followed the path of the boy’s gaze and swallowed a moan of desire. Just the thought of slathering a thick layer of that rich, golden syrup across a steaming biscuits then sinking his teeth into the moist, sweet center left him feeling as weak as the morning after a night of wild sex down at the old saloon back home.

Narrowing his gaze, Jeremy checked the distance, debating whether he needed to move closer. He did, until he felt confident the hive was well within his range, yet far enough to avoid the stings of soon-to-be furious bees.

"Brilliant," he chuckled, drawing back his arm and taking aim. Easy. "Watch, Runs Slowly. We’re gonna do this in one shot." At least Jeremy hoped so. This was the last of a dozen arrows his brother-in-law, White Wolf, had given him for Christmas.

The remaining two arrows in his quiver were his own pathetic attempts at arrow-making. He’d learned the hard way that it took patience to fashioned arrows that flew straight and true. Unfortunately, patience was not something he possessed a great quantity of. He grimaced. According to his sister, he had none.

He winked at the boy. "Ready?"

Runs Slowly nodded, his dark eyes bright with excitement.

Jeremy took a deep breath and pulled the bowstring back slowly, his arms steady. "Come on, baby, nice and straight."

The arrow flew true and hit its mark. The hive shuddered, then released its hold on the branch from which it hung and fell. A split second later, the sweet, loud clang of the hive smashing into the pail resounded.

"Bulls eye!" Jeremy shouted, gleefully pleased with himself. "Wait until Dove sees this," he said.

"Dove likes honey." Runs Slowly said, his gaze locked on the swarming cloud of bees.

Jeremy couldn’t wait to present the honey to his sister and show White Dove, his brother-in-law’s sister, the proof of his growing skill with a bow. Too bad she hadn’t been there to witness his perfect shot. All winter long he’d endured her superior airs when she proved her own skill by out shooting him with the bow. At least when it came to rifles, they were pretty well evenly skilled. But still, her smug disdain over his lack of warrior skills had begun to wear on him. The fact that she made him feel inferior just made him all that much more determined to prove himself to her.

Glancing over his shoulder, he scanned the area. No sign of Miss High-and-Mighty-Female-Warrior. "Good." Now to get the honey and deliver it to his sister before Dove showed up and tried to tell him how to do it.

Impatiently, he waited for the bees to settle over the smashed hive then wrapped a cloth around his neck an jammed his hat on snugly. Pulling on worn leather gloves to keep the bee stings to a minimum, he grabbed a short piece of wood from the second pail and a match from his shirt pocket. Striking a flame, he held it up to the oil soaked rags tied to one end of the torches. After a few minutes, he had two smoking torches. He handed one to the boy.

"Ready?" At the boy’s nod, Jeremy set off. "First one there gets first taste."

The boy waved the smoking torch in front of him to ward off the angry bees and surged ahead. Jeremy gave him a head start. With the torch in one hand and the empty pail in the other, he followed. He’d never gathered honey, but knew from his sister that smoke made them drowsy. At least he hoped so! Jessie had been in charge of keeping their honey pot filled when they’d lived in Westport. "Not so hard," he grinned, pleased with his results. He drew circles and shapes in the air with his torch. "We’ll surprise Jessie, won’t we, Runs Slowly?"

"And Dove, too, Jer-m-ee." Runs Slowly waved his smoking torch in the air.

Jeremy chuckled. "And Dove too." Once more, he checked behind him to be sure they were alone. Dove had an irritating habit of showing up unexpectedly. "Should be a law against a person walking so silently," he muttered. Still no sign of her. Turning to catch up with the boy, his heart slammed against his chest.

Two small cubs, drawn by the sweet scent of honey, had broken through a wall of thick bushes behind the tree where the hive had once hung.

"Shit!" Where there were cubs, you could count on finding a protective mama nearby. Everyone knew this -- except Runs Slowly who suffered not only from being slow physically, but also of the mind. The boy was running toward the hive as fast as his deformed leg would allow, shouting and waving the smoking torch.

Jeremy took off after the boy. "Runs Slowly, get back here!" Reaching the boy, Jeremy grabbed his arm. "Jesus, kid. We gotta get out of here."

A furious roar from the stream to his right warned it was too late. To his horror, an enormous brown bear crashed through the brush. He and the boy were smack in between mother and cubs.

"Damn, damn, damn." There was no way he’d be able to outrun the charging bear while carrying the boy. Praying, Jeremy snatched another arrow, stepped in front of the frightened boy, and with trembling hands, took aim and released.

The badly-made arrow curved, striking the bear in the shoulder. The enraged animal rose up onto her hind legs and swatted at the offending arrow embedded in her thick fur. Her bellow of rage sent birds skyward. She advanced, standing taller than Jeremy. Claws that could slice his head clean from his body slashed through the air.

His last arrow flew over the bear’s head.

Horrified by his predicament, sweat, cold and clammy, broke out on his palms and ran down the sides of his face. Jeremy tossed down his bow, scooped the boy into his arms and ran for his life.

White Dove crossed the fast-moving stream by hopping from one rock to another. Water splashed onto her moccasins then beaded off the smoked leather. She jumped to the bank, and spotted footprints in the damp soil. They led into the grove of trees a few feet away.

Hesitating on the bank, she searched the wooded area, wondering what Jeremy was up to now. "Trouble, no doubt." She’d spotted him sneaking away from the barn with Runs Slowly at his heels. Knowing Jeremy’s impulsive nature, and his aggravating habit of acting first, thinking later, she’d decided to follow. Someone had to look out for Runs Slowly who was entirely too trusting.

Forging forward, Dove left the warmth of the afternoon sun and ducked beneath the branch of a cottonwood. Long clusters of small, greenish flowers brushed against the top of her head. If it had been just Jeremy, she’d leave him to his own devices, but she worried about Runs Slowly. The boy adored Jeremy, clung to him like a shadow. She smiled. In truth, though she worried, Jeremy had been good for the boy. His patience and his ability to treat him like the others made Runs Slowly feel important and needed.

Even though the boy seemed to live in his own world most of the time, he’d been so eager to come to her brother’s school with the other children, none dared to deny him. To her surprise, he’d done well. In fact, all of the children had done well over the winter. Her brother, the current chief, along with the men on the council would be pleased.

Leaves crunched beneath her feet as she wound her way through the trees, still thinking of the future of her people. She’d never forgotten her one visit to Fort Laramie nearly three years ago. She’d seen the many wagons heading west. So many wagons stretched out for miles and miles that the white canvas covers of the wagons turned the land into a sea of white.

Would this land upon which she walked someday be taken over by the white man and his wagons? She feared it would be so. Her people were wise. They believed you could not fight or defend yourself against an enemy unless you knew and understood them. Now that her brother had returned to open his boarding school, the council had decided just knowing the language was not enough. Each summer saw more whites moving across the land. In order to survive, their children needed to learn all they could about this new threat to their way of life.

The acrid scent of wood smoke stopped her. All was unnaturally silent but for a low hum coming from somewhere off to her left. The hum of angry bees she realized, staring at her surroundings. She’d knew about the hive but its location so far up in the tree made gathering honey too risky. It looked as though Jeremy had decided to make an attempt to gather the honey.

Dove stopped. She had no desire to be stung, but someone had to make sure he didn’t fall from the tree and kill himself. Following the now audible sound of voices, she stepped between two towering trees. The sudden roar of a bear followed by a man’s shout chilled her soul.

"Oh no," she breathed, frozen by fear. A second roar spurred her into action. Her heart raced and blood pounded in her ears as she ran. Branches slapped her face as she dashed around thick trunks but she didn’t dare slow down. With each furious bellow, she prayed for the loud report of Jeremy’s rifle. No sounds of gunshot came. Dove feared she was too late.

Finally, she stumbled out into a small clearing and leaped over a fallen log before skidding to a halt in time to see Jeremy fire off an arrow that lodged in the bear’s shoulder. Runs Slowly stood frozen in fear.

"Gnayan! Fool!" she whispered harshly, her heart racing, her skin clammy.

Horrified, she watched him fire off a second arrow that curved and flew over the bear’s head. Enraged, the bear advanced on her hind legs. Jeremy grabbed Runs Slowly and ran. Dove knew there was no time to get help. She had to do something.

"Grabbing three arrows from the quiver slung across her back, she clenched one between her teeth, held one in her bow hand, and nocked the third.

Jeremy spotted her and shouted, "Get out of here, Dove. We need a rifle, not arrows."

"Go!" Sparing him a quick glance, she noted his eyes had gone from their normally pale green to nearly colorless. More frightened than she’d ever been in her entire life, she turned her attention back to the bear.

Jeremy stopped. "Not without you." He set the boy down and ordered him to run as quickly as he could for help.

Dove didn’t have time to argue. The bear dropped down onto all fours and stared at them. With feet planted apart, she drew back on the arrow and took aim. Despite her pounding heart, and tight throat, her arms were steady. The bear continued to roar and swipe at the air with her huge paw. "Please, just go," she pleaded. The animal hadn’t decided whether to charge and attack the intruders or stay with her babies. "Stay with your children." Please don’t come toward us.

The muscles of her arms strained painfully against the taut pull of the bow but she resisted the frantic urge to release her arrow. Though she’d hunted game, big and small, successfully and countless times, she’d never faced mato.

Dove tried to swallow past the lump of fear but couldn’t. Breathe. Her father’s instructions came to her, giving her the courage to stand her ground as the bear advanced. She’d never faced death.

Dove sent a desperate prayer to the spirit of the sun, asking that he command the lesser spirits to hear her. She then prayed to the spirit of Mato, the Bear, for bravery, to Wambli, the Eagle who presided over hunters, and to Keya, the Spirit of the Turtle, the guardian of life.

The bear charged.

Dove released the first arrow. It flew straight and fast but missed its mark. It struck the bear in the shoulder. The animal slowed and rose furiously back onto its hind legs, slashing the air with deadly claws.

Swiftly, Dove readied her next arrow. It flew, lodging in the bear’s throat. Still the bear advanced, so close Dove could smell the animal’s foul breath. Desperate, yet strangely calm, she fired off her third and last arrow. It flew straight through one furiously glittering eye.

The wounded animal teetered for long breathless moments. Dove jumped back as the bear crashed a few feet in front of her. The animal thrashed. Gurgling screams of pain and fury filled the air. Dropping her bow, Dove yanked her knife from the sheath tied around her thigh and crouched. And waited.

With one last grunt, the animal fell silent. In disbelief, Dove stared at the monstrous animal. It was dead. She killed it. It didn’t seem possible, but she, a woman had killed a bear.

Only warriors who wanted to prove themselves sought out the large animal, for only the bravest succeeded. But even success had it’s price. Some died during battle, some later from wounds suffered during the attack. Some survived with hideous maiming. She shuddered. The risk to kill a bear was great.

"My God, Dove, are you all right? That was damn close." Jeremy’s voice seemed to come from far away. He pulled her into his arms.

She went, stunned, shocked, and shaking. Her knife fell from her numb fingers.

Near her ear, the beat of a heart pounded. She couldn’t tell if it was his. Or the blood still rushing through her. Shivering, she burrowed close, needing his warmth. She lifted her head. They stared at each other, the knowledge of how close to death they’d all come in their eyes.

"You were magnificent, Jeremy whispered. Suddenly, he spun her around in a circle, his voice giddy excitement. "Coeeee! I can’t believe it. You killed it." His loud whoops of joy rang through the trees.

Dove glanced up into his handsome face, the tension fleeing. She laughed. "I did it! I really did it!" Wait until her father and brothers learned of this! The world spun dizzily until, laughing so hard, she had tears flowing down her face. She gasped. "Stop, Jeremy, or I’ll be sick." Her stomach had not quite recovered from her fright.

Jeremy stopped but didn’t release her. Her feet dangled several inches off the ground. Suddenly, with his arms embracing her, their faces close, their breath mingling and eyes only inches apart, she became aware of the man holding her so intimately. Her breasts were pressed against his heaving chest, her stomach scraped against the hard wall of his abdomen, and her lower body lay intimately over his. Heat rushed through her.

"Jeremy -- " The words squeezed from her, the bear forgotten as she stared into eyes gone a smoky green with desire. Her heart continued to pound, and her mouth felt dry. But the strangest aftereffect of facing death seemed to be an inability to breathe in Jeremy’s strong embrace. Slowly, she slid down his body inch by torturous inch until she stood in the circle of his arms with the top of her head a few inches below his.

"Dove -- " Jeremy’s voice dropped, became a husky plea as his head descended. His hands slid around her waist, holding her snug against him as he tilted his head to one side.

Realizing that he was about to kiss her, she held her breath. Though she’d spent the winter ignoring him, or challenging him to remind herself that he wasn’t the one for her, her body sang with the need to be kissed. Holding onto his warm, strong shoulders, staring helplessly into his eyes, the truth slammed into Dove.

She wanted Jeremy to kiss her.

She cried out, but her throat had closed. The sound escaped as a soft, breathy moan. How could this be? How could she be attracted to Jeremy Jones?

He wasn’t Sioux. Wasn’t a warrior.

He was a man who irritated her in his belief that as a man he should be better than her. He infuriated her, drove her crazy with his stupid stunts.

But he also made her laugh. And when he sat with the children reading in the evenings or teaching them another white child’s game, her heart saw more than her mind wanted to see.

He made her feel everything from anger to frustration but never had he made her body sing and hunger for his touch. Urged by the promise of her first kiss, her head tipped back in invitation.

His lips parted over hers; soft as the whisper of wind, he teased her. Leaning in, lifting her face to his, Dove closed her eyes and breathed deeply, sharing his breath for a brief moment before his mouth touched hers.

Something deep inside her jolted to life. She felt an answering jerk in him as if some invisible thread had pulled taut and joined them. Then there was nothing but him, and her; her hunger, his need as his mouth claimed hers hungrily.

Fueled by months of denied attraction, her body melded into his. Dove held on, her fingers tangling in thick wavy strands of silky-soft black hair that fell well below his shoulders. In all her twenty-two summers, nothing could have prepared her for this. She shivered, her emotions whirled. Shocked by the sweeping eagerness coursing through her, she only knew that she needed -- no -- craved this. Her blood heated, and a strange feeling raced along her body where their bodies touched.

"So sweet. Sweeter than honey," he whispered into her mouth, his tongue tracing the outline of her mouth.

Honey.

As if she’d been tossed into the cold, snow-fed stream, the reality of nearly being killed jerked Dove out of Jeremy’s arms. Passion fled so abruptly, it left her weak-kneed, shaking and sick to her stomach.

Jeremy’s breaths came as rapidly as hers. Dove stared into eyes that could tease or challenge. Now they tempted her with what could never be. For a brief moment, she’d forgotten.

Jeremy Jones was not Lakota. The cozy feelings of warmth fled. She blamed her moment of weakness on the heightened emotions that came from staring death in the eye.

"Dove -- " Jeremy reached for her.

"No. No." She stumbled back, tripped over one clawed paw and went sprawling. She stared at the bloodied bear: Proof that Jeremy Jones wasn’t the man for her lay dead beside her.

She could have died. Runs Slowly and Jeremy could have been killed.

Jeremy rushed toward her and held out his hand. "You all right?"

Breathing hard, fighting the storm of emotions chasing round and round inside her, Dove knocked his hand away and stood unaided.

"I’m sorry, Dove. I shouldn’t have kissed you. Not after -- " He broke off and shoved one hand through hair as black as night."

Dove didn’t want to discuss that kiss. Wasn’t ready to examine how he’d made her feel. She grasped anger, allowed anger to override the jumble of emotions clawing for release. Swooping down, she picked up her fallen knife. "What did you think you were doing?"

Resentment flared in Jeremy’s eyes. He scowled at her. "Jess said she was out of honey. I was just trying to help."

"Help? By getting yourself killed?" She glanced over at the pail with the smashed hive and the angry buzz of bees swarming over it like a dark cloud. The dropped smoking branches smoldered on the damp ground between the hive and them.

"Didn’t think it was a big deal. I found the hive and thought -- "

"Thought what?" She watched him rub the back of his neck with his right hand. Guilty.

Jeremy’s jaw set in a stubborn line. "It was easy. You should have seen it. A perfect shot. One arrow, and it came down, right into the pail. Right as I planned."

Despite the grave situation, the pride in his voice leaked out -- the same tone he used when he managed to best her. Incredulous, she shook her head. Though they were of the same age, there were times when she felt so much older. And wiser.

"You’re trying to impress me." During the long winter, and even before, starting when they’d first met three years ago, they’d competed with one another. He trying to prove himself better than her, she proving him wrong. But up until now, it’d been harmless. A game to see who returned from a hunt with meat first, who had the truest aim with rifle or bow. Though their competitive spirits drove each to win, she’d seen it as a harmless bit of entertainment to watch him try to prove that just because he was a man, he was better.

Hot color crept up his neck. Jeremy stared down at the dead bear. "I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt."

Fury engulfed her. She slapped the flat part of the blade against his chest, forcing him to take a step back. "You nearly got all of us killed!" she shouted.

Jeremy swallowed hard. "Hey, uh, Dove, think you could put the knife away before you start in on me?" His hand closed over her wrist but he froze when with a quick flick of her wrist, she turned the blade so the tip pressed against his shirt front.

"Look, I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t know those bears were around. Jess needed more honey. I knew where this hive was. I thought it would be easy."

Disgusted with Jeremy’s latest act of foolishness, Dove spun around, sheathing her knife before she gave in to temptation and used it on him. Ignorance wasn’t a crime. But it still angered her that he hadn’t bothered to learn the proper method to harvest the honey. If he’d bothered to ask her, she’d have told of another hive less than a mile from here, one in the trunk of a tree and much easier to access without destroying the entire hive.

"You should have known. All the children have seen the tracks and knew there was a mother bear and her cubs in the area. We walk the land as one. We live side by side with mato. A good warrior would have known to check the area first."

She narrowed her eyes, her voice dripping contempt. "But you’re not a warrior. Any Lakota child in our tribe -- save Runs Slowly--knows to make sure there are no bears around before attempting to gather honey and if one shows up, they certainly aren’t stupid enough to try and fight the bear for it." His actions served as a severe reminder that they came from two different worlds.

Crossing his arms, Jeremy protested. "I didn’t try to fight the bear. I’m not that stupid and I didn’t mean to put the boy in danger."

"If I hadn’t come looking for you, you’d both be dead. Your carelessness put us all in danger." Once again, fear slammed into her. Dove knew it would be a long time, maybe never, before she forgot the sheer fright of facing down that bear. One wrong shot, and -- she shuddered, unwilling to think of what could have happened. The last warrior in their tribe who’d faced the wrath of an angry bear had returned with his arm nearly severed. He’d died a few weeks later.

Clinging to anger to keep the sickness at bay, she stalked over to a spot several feet away from the fallen bear. The cubs scattered, but stayed close to their mother, their cries tearing at her heart. She picked up Jeremy’s useless arrow which had broken off when the bear fell.

She returned to him and broke it in half. "A true warrior does not go into battle with inferior arrows. And he does not start what he cannot finish." She tossed the pieces at his feet.

Jeremy narrowed his eyes. "If I’d had my rifle, I could’ve killed that bear." Belligerence crept into his voice.

Dove planted her hands on her hips and tipped her chin at him. "But you didn’t. You armed yourself with a weapon you could not use, and left the one weapon you can use home."

Jeremy threw out his hands. "Look, I said I was sorry. What more do you want me to say?"

Before Dove could reply, happy shouts drew her attention. Runs Slowly had returned. Behind him, she heard the sound of children.

The Sioux boy stopped next to his hero and glanced back at the rest of the boys who’d heard the commotion and had crossed the stream to see what was going on. "Dove killed bear." He pointed to the pail. "Jer-m-ee get honey." His eyes were wide as he stared at the pail.

Dove drew a deep breath. Kneeling, she pointed at the two cubs sniffing their dead mother. Speaking in Lakota so he’d understand, she said, "You must never go near baby bears. Mother bear was angry. Do you understand?"

The boy looked from Dove to the bears then up at Jeremy. "We wanted honey," he said simply.

Sighing, wishing he understood, knowing he did not, Dove stood and gave him a gentle shove. "Take him back," she ordered a boy the same age."

Happily unaware of the true danger he’d been in, he allowed himself to be led away.

"What’s going on?" White Wolf, Dove’s older brother and the man in charge of the boarding school, strode through the awed crowd. At his heels, two dogs, a black and tan female, and a young white male who looked more wolf than dog stopped when he did. They eyed the cubs but stayed close to Wolf. With one glance, he took in the entire scene. "Anyone hurt?" His sharp gaze fell on Jeremy.

Jeremy sighed, all fight leaving him. "No."

Dove quickly recounted the events to her brother and the rest of the onlookers. The boys, in training to become warriors, looked at Dove with new respect.

Wolf listened, his features grim. With a sharp movement of his hand, he ordered the rest of the children to leave. When the three adults were alone, he addressed both Jeremy and Dove.

"What’s done is done. No one got hurt -- this time." He speared Jeremy with a stern look. "In the future, perhaps you’d best consult me with your plans." It wasn’t a question nor was it negotiable.

"Yes, Wolf," Jeremy mumbled.

Silence fell as Wolf stared at the bear and gave them time to calm. Dove almost felt sorry for Jeremy who stood with his shoulders hunched. Almost, but not quite. If she hadn’t gone looking for him -- the thought didn’t bear finishing but she knew Jessie, Wolf’s wife and Jeremy’s sister, had come close to burying her brother. This day would haunt her for a very long time.

"You did well, my sister. I’m proud of you and when we return to our people, I shall tell all of your bravery."

Now that the danger was over, Dove drew herself up proudly. "We have much work to do here. The bear will have to be skinned and the mean removed and dried." She glared at Jeremy. It would take all of them the rest of the evening to take care of it. Out of respect for the animal and the spirits of their world, nothing would be wasted.
She appraised the animal. Long fangs were visible. The teeth would make a fine necklace, and the fur a nice robe, but instead of feeling joyful at the prizes she’d earned, she felt sad. Though the taking of animal life was a part of daily living, a shadow of regret hung over her triumph. This kill had not been needed for survival. This bear’s death had been forced by one man’s ignorance.

Loud cries filled the air as the cubs tried to rouse their mother. The two dogs approached the nervous cubs.

"What of the cubs?" her brother asked softly. He called the dogs back to his side.

Dove sighed. Every decision regarding this kill belonged to her. The portioning out of the meat, fur, claws, teeth was her responsibility. And the decision as to what to do with the cubs. "They will have to be cared for. I had no choice but to kill their mother, but I cannot take their lives."

Yet she had no time to become their mother. Her responsibilities lay with the Lakota children of her tribe who had been sent to attend Wolf and Jessie’s boarding school during the long winter. Her days were filled with them, and the care of her niece and nephew.

She glared at Jeremy. "Someone has to raise them."
Jeremy’s eyes widened. He took a step back and held his hands up, palms out. "Forget it. You do it."

Dove set her jaw, determined to make him face the consequences of his actions. "Was it not your unthinking actions that caused me to kill the mother bear?"

"I don’t know anything about raising cubs."

Dove crossed her arms across her breasts. "According to the Sioux way, your life now belongs to me." She ignored her brother’s groan and Jeremy’s sputtering protests. "Did I not save your life?"

Jeremy’s fingers raked through his hair once more. "Be serious, Dove. Just because -- "

"It is your fault these babies are without a mother. A Lakota warrior would accept what I say. He would not bring dishonor to his mother and father’s tipi--" she slid a sly glance to her brother--"or his sister’s."

Rewarded by an angry flush of color to Jeremy’s face, and eyes flashing green sparks of fire, Dove knew she had him.

He drew himself up. "I may not be Sioux, but I have as much honor as any of your warriors. The Jones do not shirk their responsibilities." Walking away, he picked up his hat and his bow. Jamming his hat back on his head and shouldering his bow, he stalked toward the cubs.

Satisfied, Dove watched the cubs scamper away from him. They eluded each of his attempts to capture them. If it wasn’t such a sad situation, she’d laugh.

"My little sister goads him. Perhaps she shares part of the blame?"

Her amusement died with her brother’s gentle rebuke. She switched to Lakota. "I did not know he planned to do this." She glared at her brother.

Wolf pulled on one of her braids. "You have spent the winter challenging my wife’s brother."

Dove avoided Wolf’s penetrating gaze. His meaning was clear. Had she not goaded him or put him down so often, perhaps he’d have shared his plans with her or invited her to join him. Her silence convicted her.

Without another word, Wolf left.

Dove sighed. In the manner of her people, he’d shamed her. Her own sense of right and wrong would do the rest. Today brought home just how much to blame she’d been. While most of their challenges had been more game than serious, they were each naturally competitive with far too much pride.

Today’s outcome could have been a real tragedy.

She glared at Jeremy. There was no doubt he’d wanted to impress her. And she really couldn’t blame him. Ever since their first meeting three years ago, she hadn’t been able to forget him anymore it seemed than he’d forgotten her. They’d picked up right where they’d left off, bickering and trying to prove who was the best even then. And when she met him again last fall, they’d picked up right where they’d left off.

Both their actions over the long winter had been driven by the strong pull of attraction between them that she continued to fight against. Her first thought upon learning he’d returned with Wolf was relief that Jeremy hadn’t chosen a mate.

That should have made her feel good, but trouble was, while she wanted him, she could not have him. And the more he tried to impress her and win her, the more she fought back by proving to both of them that he wasn’t the great warrior her grandmother had once said she’d marry.

Frowning, she watched him. He was directing the two dogs and had managed to separate the cubs from their mother but was having trouble herding them away. Shouldering her bow, she set off for the barn to get a length of rope. The way he was going, it’d take all night to get the cubs safely secured.

CHAPTER TWO

That night, Jeremy sat on a bed of hay in a stall with two crying cubs instead of laying on his plump feather bed, with Wolf, Jessie and Dove sitting before a fire. Some nights they talked until exhaustion drove them to their beds. Other evenings, they read by candlelight or talked about the coming day.

Watching great humped shadows dance and twist on the wall as the restless cubs clambered over and around him, he knew he could leave. No one expected him to stay out here all night. But he couldn’t leave the cubs. Their frantic cries made him feel lower than a snake.

In the past he’d hunted at will, sometimes for food, sometimes for the sheer fun of the hunt. Not once had he given thought to any young left behind. Tipping his head back against the rough stall wall, he knew it was crazy to think of past kills, but after spending the remaining afternoon and evening trying to calm the cubs, he couldn’t help it.

He liked animals, had enjoyed Sadie’s pups and the barnyard kittens, but had never given much thought to babies born in the wild.

Pacing outside the stall, Sadie, Jessie’s dog stopped to shove her nose through the slats. She sniffed, sat back and whined. "Sorry girl. You can’t come in. You’ll just upset the cubs." Moments later, a large gray-white dog trotted over. "Go away, Wapayna. Wolf’s dog just gave him a sappy grin." Half wolf and only three, he ignored Jeremy and paced up and down, eyeing the cubs with friendly interest which aggravated the already frightened animals.

Standing, Jeremy shooed both dogs out then sat back down on the bed of musty hay left over from the summer harvest. He winced when one cub darted across his lap and ran smack into the stall wall. She lifted her nose high and continued to cry for her mother. The other cub, also a female, dug her sharp nails into his thigh when she scampered frantically over him.

He rubbed his eyes and yawned. The world outside the barn had settled for the night hours ago. "Aw, come on, you two. Go to sleep," Jeremy begged, feeling tired, guilty and helpless as the cubs continued to grieve for their mother.

The lantern hanging outside the stall flickered, warning that unless refilled soon, he’d be sitting in the dark. He grabbed the makeshift bottle his sister had fashioned, snagged a cub and stuck the rubber nipple into the small mouth. Milk dribbled down over the brown fur as the baby struggled free and ran to the other side of the stall. He tried her sister with the same results.

Getting to his knees, he tried coaxing them to come to him. "Come on, drink just a little. If you die, she’ll blame me." He sat back when the cubs ran for the corner. She’d be right, he thought disgustedly. He’d made a Judy of himself earlier. His own foolish need to prove himself had gotten him into this mess. Sitting back on his heels, he stared at the cubs, wishing he could relive the afternoon. He’d never meant for something like this to happen.

All he’d wanted was for Dove to respect him, maybe admire him -- just a little. He thought of that first kiss, how passion had exploded between them, how connected he’d felt to her. It had been everything he’d imagined. More. For years he’d dreamed of this moment and it couldn’t have been sweeter -- until reality smashed it to bits. After today’s disastrous episode, her contempt toward him was stronger than ever. He’d blown it for sure. Dove wasn’t speaking to him at all now.

And to top it off, Jessie wasn’t speaking to him either. He winced at the memory of her dressing-down. Though two years younger, she’d always bossed him around. But of all his siblings, they were the closest, coming to each other’s aid during times of trouble. But not this time. Jessie had been furious when she’d learned what he’d done.

"Good thing James isn’t around," he told the cubs, needing to hear a voice, even if it was his own. James, his eldest brother, would have ripped the flesh from his hide that Jessie’s tongue lashing had missed.

Slumping against the rough wall of the barn with a layer of hay covering his legs, the cubs trying to stick their heads through the slates of the stall gate, Jeremy decided that if it meant having his big brother here to talk to, to ask advice, he’d gladly take the lecture. He missed the man who’d raised him and his siblings when their parents died in a coach accident.

Resting his chin on his knee, a sharp wave of loneliness washed over him. There wasn’t anyone who understood that he really hadn’t meant for this to happen. He truly wanted to help. He grimaced. And he had hoped to make an impression on Dove. Hell, he’d done that. Big time. Unfortunately, the wrong impression. But ever since he’d first met White Dove at Fort Laramie, he’d wanted her take notice of him as a man. Instead, from day one, she’d taken great pains to point out his shortcomings, flaunt her own superiority, and challenge his manhood.

Three years had passed since that first meeting. She gone back to her tribe with her family, and he onto Oregon with his. He’d tried to forget the Sioux beauty but Dove was unlike any woman he’d ever met. During that first winter in Oregon he’d had ample opportunity as a young, single male to find a woman to marry but none of them came close to drawing his eye.

Dove fascinated him, haunted his dreams -- waking and sleeping -- so much so, that when spring arrived, bringing with it the immanent departure of Wolf, Jessie and their babies back to the Nebraska Territory, he’d jumped at the chance to accompany them -- under the pretext of helping them start their boarding school.

But Jessie knew him too well to be fooled. She’d tried to talk him out of it, warning him that Dove had probably married. It hadn’t mattered though. Jeremy had to go. Had to know. Had to risk coming all this way or forever wonder and ask, ‘what if’?

He stared at his hands. His chest ached. Heart ache? What a fool he’d been. He should have stayed in Oregon. Dove didn’t want him. Hell, most of the time she didn’t appear to like him much. Then he thought of that kiss and didn’t know what to think. He closed his eyes, reliving every sweet moment: the feel of her in his arms. Strong and soft, shy and bold, sweet and --

The sharp prick of claws on his arm drew Jeremy from his memories. He stared at the flickering lantern. Still, that kiss had been something. "Sweet. Just so damn sweet." Why did he have to kiss her? It made her rejection, her scorn of him hurt all the more. He’d tasted heaven only to have it wrenched from him.

The yellow glow of light flickered then seemed to grow brighter. Down the corridor, a second lantern held high moved toward him. "Jeremy?"

"Down here, Jess," he called out, wondering if his sister had come back to yell at him some more. He wouldn’t blame her. Hell, hadn’t he been kicking himself all evening? Jessie peered over the stall gate. Torn between wanting company and not wanting to face his sister with the evidence of his stupidity running around crying at his feet, Jeremy couldn’t meet her gaze. He’d never done anything so foolhardy or with such horrible consequences.

"You all right?" Worry laced her voice.

Relief flowed through him. She wasn’t so mad anymore. He attempted a weak smile.

"Guess this beats the brawl I started at the saloon, huh?" Whenever Jessie got mad at him, she’d throw that incident at him. He figured he might as well be the one to bring it up this time. Save her the trouble.

Jessie set a tray covered with cloth over the corner of the stall and entered, dropping two quilts onto the hay, sending the two cubs running for the far corners. She knelt down so she wouldn’t frighten them. "Starting a fight over one of them floozies was pretty dumb, but you were young--and a hothead."

Jeremy sighed. James, too, had been furious as the damages had cost them a month’s earnings. The lecture and punishment he’d endured had been worth it to send Billy the Bully home with a black eye, several cracked ribs and a beauty of a split lip.

The mean bastard had deserved it--and more--for what he’d done to Mary Beth. He’d promised Mary Beth he wouldn’t tell anyone how he’d found her in a field a few miles from home, her clothes torn and bruises covering her from being raped. She’d refused to tell the sheriff, and three months later, her family had up and left town.

"You had good reason to beat the crap out of Billy. But this was just plain stupid, the stupidest stunt you’ve ever pulled -- you should have known better."

Open mouthed, Jeremy stared at her. "You knew?"

Jessie sighed. "Yes. I saw Mary Beth a few days before they left town. I was hoping you’d tell me yourself but I respected your reasons for keeping quiet." She reached over and covered his hand with hers. "I was so proud of you for what you did."

Jeremy grinned. How like her to try and goad him into spilling the truth. "I’m glad you know. Last I heard she married some widower with two kids."

Jessie refused to meet his gaze.

Recognizing the look, he sat up straight. "I’ll be damned. You had something to do with that, didn’t you."

She shrugged. "Heard that Mr. Pendergrass lost his wife. He always seemed kind and he needed help. I just suggested he hire Mary Beth to watch his children and cook for him."

For a moment, brother and sister shared a conspiring grin. Then Jessie reached forward and grabbed Jeremy in a fierce hug. "You could have been killed, you big lug. Don’t you ever do something like this again!"

The tears in her voice made Jeremy’s throat tighten. He held her tight, then eased back, his hands on her shoulders. "Aw, Jess, come on, don’t cry. Not good for the baby you know. ‘Sides, I don’t need Wolf angry at me too!"

Jessie pulled back and used a corner of her apron to dab at her eyes. "Seems I cry over the least little thing these days anyway. But you really scared me this time, Jer."

"I know, and I’m really sorry." Guilt for upsetting Jessie joined the guilt of knowing his actions had left two cubs orphans.

Fresh tears slid down her cheeks. "You must have been scared out of your wits. Good thing Dove was there."

Grimacing, Jeremy sat back, his arms crossed in front of him. "Yeah, woman warrior saves foolish white boy." He couldn’t help the sharp edge of sarcasm. Everyone thought she was the best, and maybe it was true. Maybe he just wasn’t good enough for her. After trying all winter to court her, gain her attention, he knew it was time to admit defeat.

Jessie touched his knee. "Hey, it’s no crime to be skilled and I for one am thankful she was there to kill that bear, otherwise you’d -- " Her voice stopped, choked with tears.

" -- be dead?" I know." He sighed, then groaned deep in his throat when one cub ran back across his lap, one paw digging in to his privates. "I’m paying for it, though," he wheezed, drawing up his knees up to protect himself from further injury from the cubs who were standing on their hind legs, front paws on his shoulders as they tried to climb over him. Their cries made conversation difficult. Out of desperation, he grabbed the bottle and pulled the loudest cub to him.

He breathed a sigh of relief when the baby finally latched onto the make-shift nipple of the bottle and suckled. The other cub ambled over, shoved the first cub away and drank hungrily, milk dripping from the sides of her mouth down onto Jeremy’s jeans. He shook his head in resignation. They were already filthy.

Silence fell between brother and sister as the cubs vied for the milk. Finally, they each fell to the mat of straw, curled together in one corner. Jeremy set the bottle down and spoke while studying his hands.

"Guess I was just being foolish thinking I could win Dove’s love."

"Oh Jeremy, love’s not foolish." Fresh tears welled in Jessie’s eyes.

"No? Then why do I feel like a fool for trying? I should’ve quit a long time ago. I’m not good enough for her -- she’s made that perfectly clear. Wants a warrior. A great warrior," he quoted, hating the phrase that Dove had thrown at him with irritating regularity. His lips and heart twisted.

"Listen, Jeremy. You can’t be what you’re not. That’s what ma always said."

Jeremy knew she was right. But that didn’t take the ache in his heart away.

"Besides, you’re as good as she is. She’d be lucky to have you." Jessie’s voice rang firm in her conviction.

"Thanks Jess, but it’s true. She’s better than I am in everything?"

Sighing with frustration, Jessie gave him a nudge with her foot. "Jeremy, she’s not better at everything. But this is her world. Just be yourself."

Be himself. Right. Hell, he didn’t know who he was. Oh, he was a third-born Jones, but so what? He had no special skills, didn’t have lots of money or land. In short, he didn’t have anything to offer Dove. She didn’t need a big fancy house or herds of sheep or cattle. Fancy dresses and big jewels wouldn’t mean anything to her. He couldn’t even offer protection in this wild land. By killing that bear and saving his life, she’d proved that she didn’t need him or any other male, warrior or white.

So why should she be interested in him? Jeremy stared at the far corner of the stall where a mouse rustled in the hay. He kicked some hay at it. It scurried off.

Jessie tapped him on the knee to get his attention. "Hey, I brought you some food." She stood to fetch the tray.

He flinched and shook his head. "I appreciate that, Jess but I’m not hungry." Especially if it was bear stew.

Jessie read his mind and punched his arm. "Hey, I’m not totally insensitive, you clod." She stood and lifted the cloth. "I brought some bread and cheese."

Her thoughtfulness warmed him inside, but the thought of eating made him feel sick. He stared at the cubs curled next to him, clinging to each other in sleep. His guilt deepened. "Thanks Jess, I’m really not hungry."

"Okay, I’ll leave it in case you change your mind. See you in the morning."

He watched her struggle to her feet and thought how far they’d all come. Just a few years before, Jessie wouldn’t have been caught dead in a dress. And he’d never pictured her as a mother. Not his little sister who spent her days running wild, another wild Jones to torment the town of Westport.

Life had a funny way of changing though. For all of them. Except him. "Jess?"

She paused. "Yeah?"

Folding a piece of straw, he spoke the words he dreaded. "It’s time for me to move on."

Dead silence met his announcement. "What are you talking about. Is this about Dove?"

He smiled weakly. "No. Yes." Raking his finger through his hair, he tried to sort this thoughts. "Hell, I don’t know. I just know I can’t stay here."

"Why not?" Jessie stood over him with her hands on her hips.

Jeremy studied her, noted that she was poised for a fight. "Who are you, Jess?"
At his question, she tossed her hands up and paced. "What kind of question is that? You know who I am."

"My point is that you know who you are. You’re not just my sister, or Wolf’s wife. Or just a mother. You’re a fierce protector when it comes to women being beaten by drunks -- "

"Anyone would have stopped that man from beating on his wife and son."

"But you’re the one who took action. You’re also teacher to all these kids. You’re many things, Jess."

"What are you getting at, Jeremy?"

"You have a life. One you carved out for yourself. As both James and Jordan have done." He paused. "Who am I, Jess?"

"You’re my brother -- "

"I’m that Jones boy. That’s what everyone has always called me. "I’m the one who gets into trouble. I’m the one with no sense."

"Come on, Jer, that’s not true. Jordan’s temper is as bad as yours. And mine," she added. "Besides, you beat up Billy for Mary Beth."

"Yeah, but only you know about that. And that’s fine," he added. He’d never brag about it just to prove himself to others. "But that’s just one time. One incident. People always turned to James and Jordan when they needed extra help. No one ever saw me as anything except that young Jones boy who gets into mischief."

He tossed the mangled piece of straw down and indicated his surroundings. "This is your home, and Wolf’s. Here, I’m just your brother. Nothing special. No one really needs me and I want to be needed, Jess -- for more than just chores around the house or barn. I came because of Dove. When Dove leaves, there won’t be any reason for me to stay."

Tears welled in Jessie’s eyes. "You can stay for me, you know."

Jeremy attempted a smile. "Yeah, but you don’t need me, Jess. Not really. You have Wolf -- and Rook. You have your life. I need to find mine." As he said the words, he knew it was time. He’d always relied on others to look out for him, tell him what to do, when to do it and even how to do it.

"Oh Jer. Where will you go?" Worry shone in her eyes.

"I don’t know, Jess. Back to Westport, maybe California. Hey, sis, don’t worry, I’m not leaving soon. Got a couple of cubs to raise first." When she tried but failed to stifle a yawn, he pointed to the gate. "Go on, get to bed. I’m fine here."

Jessie let herself out of the stall. She grabbed her lantern and moments later, the barn door closed, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the cubs. The more he thought about it, the more he knew the time had come for him to leave.

The long, skinny grotesque shadow of a mouse distracted him for a moment as it ran along the top rail. Jeremy watched it slide beneath the cloth to raid the cheese but he didn’t care. "I really messed up big time today," he whispered to the shadows, his fingers digging into the fur of one cub.

He grimaced. Though soft as silk, it was full of dust, dirt, straw and God knew what else. He pulled his hand away and touched thumb to forefinger. They stuck together. Great. The babies were coated with honey. Jeremy wiped his hand on the hay. Straw stuck to his fingers. He swore. The harsh exclamation woke the cubs who scrambled around the stall which prompted another long, lengthy, vulgar curse.

Damn. What else?

Without warning, the lantern gave one last flicker and died.

Dawn kissed the pewter-washed horizon pink. Like a woman’s blush, the rosy tint radiated outward as the pale morning light raced across the crystalline heavens. The brightening sky brought forth a stirring of movement: The flutter of wings, and a soft chirp shared between mated meadow larks, the wide yawn of a newborn fawn, and the swish of a ground squirrel’s tail.

Perched on a rock at the river’s edge, Dove observed the squirrel’s delight in romping over the soft carpet of grass, leaves and newly blooming flowers. She moved, and the small creature zipped down his hole. Dove smiled weakly at the bright-eyed animal peering over the mound of fresh earth. "I have no bow and arrow this morning. You are safe, little pispiza." As if it understood, the squirrel stood on its hind legs and resumed his business of finding food.

Normally Dove took great delight in the small creatures of her world, but today her heart and mind lay in turmoil. Her night and dreams had been tormented by the events of the day: the fright of watching Jeremy trying to kill the bear, her own stand against the magnificent animal, and the kiss spawned by high emotions. All night she’d tried to convince herself that her response had been caused by uncontrolled relief.

But she knew the truth. She’d wanted him to kiss her. What she didn’t know was why? To prove once and for all how incompatible they were? She moaned and buried her head in her hands. Her response proved just how drawn to him she truly was.

She touched her lips. To her surprise, his kiss hadn’t been anything like she’d expected. It had been more. Had she been thirsty, she’d have wanted more to drink. Had she been hungry, she’d have needed more to eat, had she been tired, sleep would have fled beneath the energy of his kiss. His kiss had left her hungry, thirsty and eager for more. Staring out across the stream, she knew something within her had changed. She’d lost control.

Dove drew in deep breaths of cool, crisp morning air. Winter had finally given way to spring. In just a few days she, along with the children would be returning home to their people. This should have been good. It would remove her from Jeremy’s confusing presence.

The children were excited. But not Dove. She’d be returning to parents who had betrayed her. Last fall, her father had told her she had to marry by the next sun dance. He was tired of dealing with unhappy suitors and the grumbling within the tribe each time she refused an offer, no matter how sincere or generous.

Her father’s words echoed in her head. Choose a warrior by the next Sun Dance, or he’d chose for her.

Dove kicked a large rock, sending it splashing into the water. She winced in pain. It hurt -- her toe from the rock, and her heart at her father’s betrayal. For the first time in her life, her father refused to listen to her. Even when she reminded him of her grandmother’s vision.

Seeing Eyes had counseled her to grow up brave and strong. To be worthy of the man who’d one day claim her for his mate. Dove had been so excited she’d asked her grandmother if her future husband would be a great warrior. One who also was brave and wise. A chief like her father.

Her grandmother had smiled and said he’d be a wise man, one who followed his heart. Though Dove had only been four winters, she’d taken those words to heart and had sought to make herself worthy of her warrior. But her grandmother had never made public her vision for her youngest granddaughter. Everyone believed she waited for a man who didn’t exist. Some thought she just didn’t want to marry and lose her freedom.

No one understood that Dove needed a mate to whom she could look up to, one who would challenge her to be the best, and most important, accept her without being threatened by her own skills.

Staring up into the blue heavens, her hands held high. She closed her eyes, bringing into focus the hazy image of her grandmother. "I followed your instructions, Unci. Am I not worthy? Have I not proved that I am strong, brave, clever and kind? I spent my life learning to be a warrior so that I could be worthy of this great warrior you spoke of. Yet he still does not come. Where is he? Why does he not come for me?"

For as long as she could remember she’d been driven to prove herself. Had she dreamed her grandmother’s words? Could it have been her imagination? She no longer knew. Dropping her arms, she stared at the small inlet where the water turned calm.

Stopping to watch the white-foamed water swirl past, Dove feared they were right, that she held out for a dream. No warrior wanted for wife a woman his equal. Instead of viewing her accomplishments with pride, they sought to bury hers with their own. She clenched her fists. It wasn’t that she didn’t want a loving mate or children. She craved her freedom more. She feared her husband would relegate her to the tipi to spare his pride.

A breath of wind rippled the surface of the water. Rings and wrinkles formed a wavy image. Her grandmother. Dove gasped and fell to her knees. But as quickly it appeared, it faded away into a shape she’d learned the whites called a heart.

"How will I know this warrior, Unci?"

"Follow your heart, child."

Sitting back on her heels, that long ago conversation came to her as if just yesterday. Staring at the fading ripples of water, Dove knew her grandmother had reminded her to follow her heart. Trouble was, she didn’t know her own heart.

Once more she thought of Jeremy. He’d spent the entire winter trying to make her take notice of him. She had. Just as she’d noticed him three years ago. Since that first meeting, his boyish good looks had hardened into the strong lines of a man, his easy laughter still made her laugh and she still loved to ignite his quick temper just for the sheer pleasure of watching him come alive with emotion.

Unlike the warriors in her tribe who took great pride in keeping tight control on their emotions and thoughts, Jeremy did everything whole-heartedly and with great energy and devotion -- even getting into trouble or finding ways to rile her. And if she really wanted to be honest, she looked forward to their battles of wills.

But in the end, none of that mattered. They came from different worlds, had different needs. So how could she be attracted to someone so wrong for her? He wouldn’t last one day among her people and while she had enjoyed living here with her brother, she longed for the smell of pines that came from the Paha Sapa, the black hills and surrounding prairie where they roamed.

She yearned for the exhilarating freedom that came from riding with the wind across the golden beauty of wide open plains. She craved the sight of bright stars twinkling down on her as she fell asleep, and the warm light of wi when she woke. Most of all, she missed her family. Her people. Her tribe. The daily rituals that spoke of belonging.

Though she knew in her heart Jeremy was wrong for her, she found herself wishing it were possible. The prospect of living through another summer spent dealing with unwanted suitors like Waho dampened her eagerness to return to the land she loved.

Members of her clan normally did not take for wife a female within the tribe. Warriors sought their mates outside their tiyospaye to prevent in-breeding. With few exceptions, males left their family to live with their wife’s tribe. But Waho’s family, also of the Miniconjou had joined their clan years ago when illness killed most of their tribe. So as he was not related to anyone in her tribe, he was allowed to court her.

Overhead, the song of birds reminded her that though no other human was in sight, she wasn’t alone. Standing, she cleared her mind and turned in a slow circle, arms out at her sides as she sent a prayer of thanks to Mahpiya, the spirit who presided over the heavens, clouds and sky.

If displeased, the spirits would withhold pleasant weather or send a hot wind as punishment. With her life in turmoil, all Dove wanted was peace. Realizing she’d been gone much longer than usual, she headed back through the woods. A clinging mist swirled around her ankles.

When she left the sheltering trees, she stopped to study her brother’s home. Once she’d found the small log cabin to be very strange and had wondered how Wolf could sleep in a house of wood with no twinkling wicahpi to watch at night.

Beside the cabin, a barn, two corrals, and another building made of sod made up her brother’s home. The sod house served as a schoolroom during the day, and the place where the Sioux children slept during the night.

The door to the school room opened, reminding Dove that there was much to be done. Five girls ranging in age from six summers to ten spilled out into the early dawn. The youngest ran to greet her. "Wetu has arrived. Soon we go home?" Big dark eyes pleaded silently.

Dove smiled. "Have you not enjoyed your stay, Gray Bird?"

"Yes, but I miss my family." The little girl tried to smile, but her lips trembled.

"I know. Me too. Do not worry. Our warriors will arrive any day to escort us home," she reassured. None of the children had ever been separated from their families and the winter had been long for most, especially for the younger ones like Spotted Owl. The arrival of spring meant it was time to be reunited with their loved ones.

At the news, Gray Bird smiled with happiness. "I am glad." She ran back to the others girls and their giggles filled the air as they ran toward the stream to bathe. An older girl of thirteen hurried to catch up.

Sighing, Dove headed for the main house, eager herself to return home. She loved her people, loved her life among the Sioux. Why did it have to change?

Passing the corral of once-wild horses, she stopped to stroke the nose of a friendly mare. Speaking in Lakota, she greeted the animal, noting the glossy coat, and bright eyes that eyed the lush green grass on the other side of the fence with longing. Dove silently commiserated. The horse had already lost her freedom. Soon, Dove would lose hers.

The mare nibbled on one of Dove’s braids. "You, my friend, will be sold. A new life awaits you. But not so for me." She knew what awaited her. And that was the problem. She felt like a wild creature trapped and forced into an existence shaped by others -- like these once wild horses.

Yet what more was there for a Sioux woman? She enjoyed more freedom than most. No other woman in her tribe hunted or knew the ways of a warrior. She sighed. No one else wanted it either. She didn’t understand them. How could they not see there was more to their existence than raising children, taking care of their mates, and tipis?

Dove didn’t want to be hemmed into the conventional life of a woman yet unless she left her people as her sister and brother had done, there was little she could do. For her, leaving was not an option. Her life lay with her people. This winter spent away from them had proven she would not be happy living in a house of wood. She needed the freedom that came with their nomadic lifestyle.

So that left her with no solution. In just a few days, she would return to a life where she walked along the edge, a woman walking the line between the sexes. One side would not fulfill her, the other didn’t want her there.

A group of boys ran past her, eyeing her with awe. Yes, she was a warrior-woman. She squared her shoulders and lifted her head proudly. She’d spent her life becoming as warrior-like as she could in order to fulfill her grandmother’s vision and yesterday she’d proven herself by killing a bear, a feat accomplished by only the bravest warriors. This proved that her mate would be a great warrior. So where was he?

Dove glanced at the barn. A pair of pale green eyes came to mind, making her shove away from the corral. With steely resolve, she cut off all thought of Jeremy. He wasn’t Lakota. He wasn’t a warrior. It was that simple.

Once more in control, she entered Wolf and Jessie’s dark house. The room boasted two windows, one set on either side of the door. She opened the shutters to allow the morning light to spill in. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much light. The front of the house faced west.

Glancing around, she smiled. Jessie had tried to brighten the dark interior with a braided rug they’d worked on each evening. It added color to the floor of the main room. Quilled artwork from the visiting girls added other colorful touches to the walls. But basically, the room was designed and built for function with a large stone fireplace to provide warmth, light, and an added cooking source if needed.

Across from her, a ladder led to the loft Dove where slept each night, the bed her mother had once used while growing up here in this same cabin. Though she didn’t particularly like living in a wooden house, it made her feel close to her mother to sleep in the same bed as she’d slept in. Below the loft, Jeremy slept in a small alcove and a closed door along that same wall led to the small bedroom Wolf and Jessie shared with the twins.

A quick glance revealed Jeremy’s bed lay empty, not slept in. Surprised, she scanned the room. Where was he? An early riser he wasn’t. She usually took great pleasure in waking him each morning when she added wood to the dying embers in the fireplace. She glanced out the window toward the barn. It had been cold last night. Had he slept out there all night?

Dove firmly put the worry from her mind. She refused to feel sorry for him. He’d brought it on himself. Just thinking about the motherless babies made her mad all over again. The fool hadn’t even known the proper way to gather the honey. He’d destroyed the hive in his eagerness. "Senseless. He’d done it to gain her attention which upset her. Was she in some small way responsible as her brother hinted?

No! She hadn’t challenged him, or goaded him, or in any way influenced his decision. Therefore, the consequences rested on his shoulders. But a small amount of guilt had fallen onto her resisting shoulders. She had spent the winter baiting him and finding great amusement in his challenges and in watching his temper rise to the surface when she proved over and over that her skills were better than his. He could not even outrun her!

Adding wood to the fireplace, she coaxed the flames to life then headed into the separate kitchen off the main room. Though more of an extension of the main room, the recently added room faced east. Bright light streamed in from the generous sized windows. This sunny room was her favorite -- though she’d rather be outside than in.

After building a fire in the stove, she slammed a kettle of water on a burner to heat. Water sloshed over the side, followed by an angry hissing.

By the time the aroma of hot, strong coffee filled the kitchen, she felt vibrations on the wood floor. Pouring three cups of coffee, she set them down on the rough-hewn table, cradled one in her hands and bent her head to take a cautious sip. "Ahhh." She loved coffee.

"Hau, my sister. Wolf walked in, stretched then grabbed one of the steaming cups.

"Hau, my brother. You grow lazy to sleep so long," she teased.

"You do not have two toddlers waking you in the middle of the night," he shot back, running his fingers through his long golden-brown hair.

"Good morning, Dove," a sleepy voice greeted her. "Don’t mind this grouch." Jessie stood on tiptoe and kissed her husband on his scowling mouth.

Dove smiled at the play between husband and wife. She too had been awakened by the cries during the night. Noting the dark smudges beneath her sister-in-laws eyes, she frowned. "Perhaps you should sleep in."

"I told her to stay in bed, but she refused." Wolf led his wife to the table, held out a chair, and seated her. "I’ll have Sofia or Rook take over the classroom this afternoon so you can nap -- no arguing." He bent his head, gave Jessie another kiss, then grabbed a bar of soap and a towel and left by way of a door leading from the kitchen to the vegetable and herb garden.

Jessie grimaced. "Sarah woke several times which of course woke Sam. Then there is this one." She leaned back and rubbed her swollen belly.

A slight jump, followed by a rolling motion brought a smile to the two women. Dove reached out to touch her niece or nephew and grinned. What would it feel like to feel life growing inside her body? She loved children but knew when she married, all her other, non-female activities would come to an end, denied to her by her husband.

Dove couldn’t imagine spending each day just tending to children and her tipi. She needed more than that. Panic welled. To push it aside, she jumped up and poured herself a second cup of coffee and paced. Though there was much to be done to get the meal ready for twelve children, two toddlers, and six adults, neither woman made a move to do so. Dove had learned early that the kitchen fell to the domain of Rook and Sofia who ran the house with their combined iron fists.

Raised voices warned of the couple’s arrival. Rook burst in carrying a pail of fresh milk. At his side, his wife Sofia pushed past him, a basket of eggs swing dangerously high. "I’ll start the biscuits."

Within minutes, Sofia had gathered everything she needed and dumped them onto the table. Pouring flour into a bowl, puffs of the finely milled powder billowed into the air. Dove and Jessie glanced at each other and headed for the doorway. They waited.

Rook, upon noticing what Sofia was doing, stomped over to her. "Woman, ya gots to measure!" Rook grabbed the bowl, dumped the flour back into the sack then carefully measured out the needed portion. Flour coated the table. "This is why my biscuits are better ‘n yers."

"Roxbury Seamour Thorndike, I know how to cook and don’t need or want advice from you. And you’re forgetting old man, my biscuits are perfecto!" She kissed her fingers, grabbed a second bowl and poured in more flour. "We shall see whose biscuits are better."

"Here we go again," Dove murmured, unable to stifle her snicker when Rook turned red. He hated the use of his full name which to the amusement of all, Sofia used to her advantage. He rounded on her.

"Ain’t ya got work ta do, lass? Yer in the way." Rook speared Jessie with the same lowered-brow glare.

Jessie laughed dryly. "Sweet as ever, Rook."

Dove bent her head to her nearly empty cup. Every morning was the same. The older couple argued over who made the best biscuits -- and though she thought Rook’s were the best she didn’t dare say so -- then they started to argue over the rest of the meal and who would cook what. And it wasn’t just the morning meal. Every meal was a contest of sorts between them with each cooking whatever they wanted, providing a vast array of food choices at each meal.

"I don’t understand them," Dove whispered, shaking her head as the sounds of arguing continued.

"Oh, that’s just their way. Those two have been fussin’ at each other from the very beginning." Jessie lifted her voice, earning her a baleful glare from both Rook and Sofia. She smiled innocently, then lowered her voice so the couple on the other side of the room couldn’t hear. "But you know, they’re perfect for each other. She’s been so good for him and I’m glad they both decided to return home with us. I’d have missed them terribly if they’d stayed in Oregon with my brothers."

Dove shrugged, giving up on trying to figure out how Rook and Sofia could be so happy when all they did was argue, fuss and fight. That kind of marriage wasn’t for her. When she married, it would be to a warrior who knew her worth, and treated her as his equal. She yearned to do something with her life, as Jessie was doing by teaching the Indian children their letters and numbers, history and the ways of the whites.

Yes, Jessie was indeed very fortunate. Not only did she have an understanding mate, but she’d traveled across the Maka to Oregon, had seen wondrous sights which she regaled them with during the cold winter evenings.

Rook marched over and handed Jessie a cup of milk, his pointed gaze going to her rounded belly.

"Milk, that’s what you need with that babe growin’ inside you. Nice, fresh and rich."

"Tea. That’s what the child needs. Some soothing herbs," Sofia said, pointing a knife at her husband as she paused in slicing pork.

"Not more arguing," Dove muttered, grabbing another cup of coffee. She pulled on Jessie’s arm. "Come on, sister. I hear the babies."

Standing in the center of the main room, she handed Jessie her cup of coffee and took the milk. "Here," she whispered. "You get dressed and I’ll get Sam and Sarah up and give them the milk." This too was the same each morning. Jessie hated milk.

"Don’t you go giving them babies any of that there milk, girl," Rook roared from the kitchen.

"Not to worry, old man," Dove shouted back with a grin. Dove loved these exchanges, so different than the way her people addressed each other. Most of the time she addressed Rook with the honored title of grandfather. But it felt good, free to tease him as he teased her.

"Don’t ya git sassy, Lass," came Rook’s gruff reply with just a hint of amusement lurking in the booming depths.

"Always has to have the last word, doesn’t he," Dove whispered.

"An don’t ye be forgittin’ it, lass."

Both women giggled as they fled to the bedroom where the twins were awake and shouting to be let out of their crib.

Nearly two hours later, all that remained of the morning meal were soiled plates, cups and empty platters on the table. The children had left for the schoolroom, the men for their chores. Dove carried one load of dirty dishes to the sink. Rook thrust a plate covered with a clean cloth at her. "What’s this for?"

"Take it out to the boy. Poor lad spent the night in the barn. Didn’t eat no supper neither. Must be near starved." He held out a small pail containing two make-shift bottles Wolf kept on hand for hand rearing livestock young. Rook had already filled the bottles with fresh milk.

Dove put her hands behind her back. "Jessie’s waiting for me in the schoolroom. I need to go fetch the twins so she can start teaching."

Rook speared her with a stern look. "She can wait. The boy can’t." Pointedly, he held out the plate and pail. "Yer both stubborn as mules."

Dove blinked. "And you and Sofia are not?"

Rook shoved the two items into Dove’s hands, his bushy white brows lowered. "Don’t go gittin’ sassy lass. We’s different -- I loves that woman. Now if you ask me, the lad is jest trying to impress ya and it wouldn’t hurt ya to--" He broke off when Sofia walked in the back door, carrying a basket of wood.

"I love you too, old man, now quit buttin’ into business not yours." Her strong features softened. "No matchmaking."

Shaking a finger at his wife, Rook bellowed, "Now’s who’s buttin’ in? Ya know as well as I that they’s well suited." Stomping over to her, he took the heavy load from her arms. "And why are ya carryin’ in tha’ wood? Tol’ ya I’d do the heavy work."

Seeing her chance at escaping yet another session of listening to those two argue, not to mention having to listen to Rook talk about Jeremy, Dove fled the kitchen with the plate and pail.

"Roxbury, I’m warning you. Leave those kids alone." Sofia glared at her husband, her arms folded across her ample bosom.

Staring out the window, Rook stroked his bushy beard. "Now Sofy, ya know I’s right. Time’s runnin’ short. Gots ta be somethin’ we can do."

"Maybe so, old man. But it’s for them to find out. Stay out of it. A more blatant bit of matchmaking I’ve yet to see." Sofia busied herself with a bowl of dough, punching it down, turning the blob to coat it with melted butter lining the bowl, then covered the bowl back up to allow the dough to rise a second time. She pulled another bowl with a bulging crown of dough toward her and repeated the process.

"Seems we did all right with James and Eirica," Rook commented, punching the dough in a third bowl.

"Not the same. Things are different here. Jeremy and Dove lead different lives. She’s right. Jeremy isn’t suited to her lifestyle and I can’t see her living here or in some town. Too spirited." She held her butter-glistening palm up to stop her husband’s protest. "Much as I love Jeremy and want to see him settled, he’s not ready."

"But the lass is leavin’. By the time he sees her again, it’ll be too late. There’s got ta be somethin’ we can do." He pulled his wife into his arms and held her close. "Jest want them all ta be as happy as I am, Sofy, lass."

"I know, old man. I know." They remained silent in each other’s arms.

Tugging playfully at his beard, Sofia slid one leg between his. "I think we’re done in here for now."

Rook’s pale blue eyes sparkled. He pulled her closer until she straddled one of his bent knees. "Are we now. Wouldn’t be so sure of that." With a quick movement, he untied her apron and tossed it to the table.

Sofia smiled wickedly. "Don’t suppose we have time to get back to our own cabin?"

Rook fumbled for the buttons of her trousers. "Got that straight," he whispered, nibbling on her ear. He pulled back, his fingers fighting the button holes. "Dang it woman, a dress would be much easier."

Sofia’s husky laughter filled the room. She pulled Rook back into a small dark closet that led to a cool dugout. "What fun would that be, old man?"

Rook growled in her ear. "Ya wants fun, eh? I’ll show ya fun, old woman." With a bang, the door to the door closed behind them.

Reviews:

Talented author Susan Edwards creates memorable characters in her new release "White Dove", the latest in her "White" series. Readers will enjoy Jeremy's story and appreciate the richness of Ms. Edwards' historical research.

Bobbi Smith, Author of Bestselling Brides of Durango

"—An awesome read . . . highly recommend . . . This series ROCKS!"

— HUNTRESS BOOK REVIEWS (Reviewed by Detra Fitch)

"Ms Edwards has a way of taking her readers on a smooth trick back in time. WHITE DOVE is another arrow in her quiver of rare stories."

— Rendezvous

"Ms. Edwards once again delivers a powerfully seductive romance, which aims straight for the heart."

— Old Book Barn Gazette

"Susan Edwards. . .makes me laugh, cry, enjoy, and most of all appreciate the wonderful gift of story telling she has. When you read her books, you read the best. Wonderful writing!"

— Donita Lawrence, Bell Book and Candle

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